The Awakening

The estate still smoldered, bathed in the afterglow of chaos. Smoke curled through the broken corridors like serpents licking the wounds of war. Bodies lay scattered across the marble floor—Elara's assassins, Gina's guards, innocent staff. But the blood that stained Gina's hands was sacred.

Dave's blood.

She hadn't moved from the courtyard. His body had been taken, covered, honored, but her mind still heard his final breath, still saw the light fade from his eyes. Her silence was heavy, terrifying.

Davina stood beside her, equally quiet, her young face drawn tight with grief and rage. The child in her had died the moment Dave did. What remained was a weapon, forged in fury.

---

In another wing of the estate, Nuel studied the aftermath. His men had arrived too late to intervene but just in time to salvage what remained of Gina's command system. He watched her on surveillance, unmoving, coiled like a panther ready to kill.

"She's about to become a different kind of queen," he said aloud to no one.

He remembered his father's screams, the noose, the bankrupted name. Richard Lansing had destroyed his life—but now Elara had handed him the perfect opening.

It was time to burn everything down.

---

Across the sea, Elara celebrated.

She sat before a fireplace in a chateau deep in the Alps, sipping red wine. The screen showed drone footage of the estate on fire. Dave's death. Gina's broken stance.

"It's done," said her lieutenant. "Her heart has been compromised. She'll be scattered now."

Elara smirked. "She was always fire. Now she'll just burn herself out."

But Elara underestimated one thing:

Gina didn't scatter.

She sharpened.

---

That night, Gina returned to her private chamber. Houna waited, silent as ever.

"She took him," Gina said, voice hollow.

"She wanted to unmake you," Houna replied.

"She may have succeeded."

"No. She created something far worse."

Gina turned toward the black wall safe. She opened it. Inside lay plans—a forgotten protocol.

Operation Widow's Sting.

"You're activating that?" Houna asked.

Gina nodded. "Tonight."

---

While Gina met with her inner circle, Davina disappeared from her mother's watch.

Armed and silent, she rode on a black motorbike across the border to a known outpost of Elara's elite. No orders. No clearance.

She infiltrated the stronghold, disarmed three guards with calculated precision, and put a bullet between the eyes of Elara's head handler before the alarm rang.

She left a message carved in blood: "You took my father. I'm taking your throne."

The facility was burning by the time Gina's intel caught up with her.

Back at the estate, Davina arrived covered in soot and blood.

Gina didn't reprimand her.

Instead, she embraced her. "You're my daughter."

Davina whispered, "She's next."

---

At the same time, Nuel sent a false report to Richard Lansing—claiming Gina had perished in the fire. The deception was complete. Richard relaxed, not knowing that beneath his boardroom sat a bomb planted by Nuel's own hand.

All three storms were on the move:

Gina. Davina. Nuel.

And Elara? She had only drawn first blood.

The rest would come in waves.

Relentless.

Final.